Another Bruise to Hide, Another Alibi to Write
by duskbutterfly
Summary: A look at Booth's home life and how he became the man who will do whatever it takes to protect his family and the people he loves. "He watched as she swept up the broken glass on the floor, ready to pretend that it had been nothing more than a bad dream"


**Author's Note: ** This came to be a couple of weeks ago after hearing Savage Garden's song '2 Beds & A Coffee Machine' and the vision of young Booth's reaction to his family life – knowing how deeply entrenched his protective instincts are caught my imagination. I haven't written fan-fiction in years, I hope it's alright.

**Disclaimer:** I own neither the song, the characters nor the tv show Bones those honours belong to greater individuals.

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**Another Bruise Try and Hide, Another Alibi to Write**

_Slowly she opens the door_

_Check that he is sleeping_

_Pick up all the broken glass and furniture on the floor_

_Been up half the night screaming now it's time to get away_

_Pack up the kids in the car_

_Another bruise to try and hide_

_Another alibi to write_

2 Beds & A Coffee Machine, Savage Garden

He lay curled up in bed, knees held tight to his chest as they screamed at each other. Wincing as he heard glass shatter and felt the wall next to him reverberate with the impact. He'd learnt to lock down his emotions. His dad said crying was for girls and that boys who acted like girls needed a good beating to toughen them up. The bruises had long since faded and he didn't cry anymore.

Jared was still too small to know that when dad was angry you had to stay quiet. Seeley tried to make sure he always took the blame for everything but sometimes his dad got to Jared first. Jared's cries seemed to penetrate his heart like knives. It was the pain of watching that propelled him forward, time after time, to put himself between the drunken rage and his brother.

Each time his dad came after one of them he would hear the strangled cry from his mother's lips, see those eyes – red from crying – fill again and the tears spill down her ashen cheeks.

But she wouldn't move from her spot against the wall.

Too tired, too suppressed, too afraid of that hand hitting her instead.

He understood. He did his best to protect them, to take each blow as it came without shifting from his position as shield. But he couldn't stop the beatings that came after he had gone to bed. Getting up again would only make it worse.

And so he suffered, quietly and alone as he listened to them fight. Wracked with guilt about not being there but unable to stop his lip from trembling in fear at the thought of those knuckles grazing his skin instead.

Sometimes he wondered whether he could remove all of the glass from the house. If having nothing to shatter would make it any better but then he would picture the wooden kitchen chairs his father had reduced to splinters and had to admit it wouldn't do any good.

When he was younger he used to get confused when things just disappeared over night; a lamp, a kitchen chair, a picture frame. Now he got to see what was left of them before they went to the tip.

He remembers trying to ask his mother about it the day the tv disappeared but she kept avoiding the question. So when a new one appeared he knew better than to ask where it had come from, despite knowing they didn't have a lot of money.

The slamming door that shook the house, the groan of the bedsprings and the eerie quiet that followed were his signals to get out of bed.

It was his signal to cross the room silently to stand over his baby brother, asleep and blissfully ignorant to the war that raged outside their door each night. To gently lean over him and slide the earplugs out of Jared's ears without waking him.

Each night, as he left the safety of his room, he breathed a sigh of relief that Jared hadn't wakened. That he would have one less nightmare to carry though life with him.

Standing in the hallway, his flannel pyjamas no match for the chill that settled on their house each night with no money to power the gas heater, Seeley felt the bile rise at the back of his throat. He watched as she swept up the broken glass on the floor, ready to pretend – come morning – that it had been nothing more than a bad dream. It felt like his heart was being torn in two as the slow drip of blood ran down her cheek like a tear from a fresh gash under her eye.

At nine he was used to patching up the cuts, the split lips, applying ice packs – and later, applying layers of makeup to hide her black eyes. He was expected to hold his tongue; to do whatever she needed to make it look like nothing had ever happened.

He knew, things weren't meant to be like this. His friend's dad's didn't hurt their mums or beat them. He knew, deep down that they needed to leave. To walk away from the pain and the fear but come morning it was so easy to believe in the lie. To believe that everything was okay because his dad wouldn't remember and everything looked so normal.

With a silent sigh, Seeley crossed the room, taking the broom out of her shaking arms. Leading her into the kitchen to clean the gash and apply an icepack Seeley felt the energy drain out of her and again he became the parent, caring for a broken child.

_Another Night, Another Argument to Fight_

He remembers the first fight when he understood what his dad was saying to her. He remembers the hot tears streaming down his cheeks, the tightness of his throat as though his tongue was suddenly too big and too dry for his mouth. The feeling that there was a tight band around his chest, stopping him from drawing breath.

But it's the heart-rending pain that brings him to his knees. The pain of love and hate waring within him for an idol, lost forever.

He would do what needed to be done to keep is mother happy. He swore then to protect both her and Jared. But to neither forgive, nor forget.

He couldn't keep from still loving him, deep down, but he could store that memory and all the memories to come. To lock them away in a small section of his heart. So that when the day came, he could get them out and have the strength to pull his family apart.


End file.
